The Fourth Horseman
by oneiromancer242
Summary: It's a question all Mutants have to answer in the end : What side am I on? Recruited by Apocalypse to assist in his new world, can anybody reach Quicksilver before he loses himself to the darkness forever?
1. Chapter 1

**For MarburyBlur, who requests a fic where Peter becomes a Horseman of Apocalypse instead of Erik. I have the feeling this is going to be another long one...**

With the rest of the basement in darkness, Magda could hardly see her son sat in front of the television absorbed in a news broadcast. Just the occasional glare of light over his face revealing that he was there at all. She'd never seen him sit so still, stood as still as she could herself at the top of the stairs to avoid tipping him off that she was watching. Told herself that he was fine, that she didn't need to be worrying about him as much as she was, and that all this talk of a Mutant god was just talk – Peter would know that, he was a smart kid for all his goofiness.

She worried anyway. Mothers knew when there was something up with their children, even if they couldn't put into words what it was. All the anti-Mutant prejudice that had sprung up since that day ten years ago when Mutantkind had been revealed to the world had a bad effect on her son. Added to the isolation from and sense of resentment toward the human world that had been growing ever since he was expelled from school at 14. He'd been sad and solitary and rebellious for years, but now she thought there was something else. Sometimes she thought he seemed to be getting angrier than he had been. With his sisters moved out, none of the prospects and milestones that an ordinary boy hitting his mid-twenties would have looked forward to, no escape from the whirring chaos in his head and now all this talk of Mutants on TV, it was understandable.

He'd become so good at hiding what he felt from her, she thought. Ever since that afternoon years ago when his twin sister had dragged him by one bleeding arm to show Magda what he'd done to himself. Ever since she'd taken him to the quiet, dark-wood panelled office in town and the kind lady doctor who had tried to get him to talk to her about how he was feeling. Ever since he'd refused to go back to her and refused to go out and refused any attempt at human friendship, there was a sort of mask that fell across his face that even Magda couldn't see through. She worried that behind that mask, all the impatience and annoyance and the wounded feeling of being left out and hated and feared was building up into something that would strike out one day.

There had been fewer police at the door in recent years, but Magda suspected that wasn't a case of Peter not using his gifts to amuse himself with petty theft, graffiti and mischief, but a case of him having got better at getting away with it. Whilst she knew that there was a sweet nature in him, a sort of soft goodness that persisted, she wondered if something else was growing alongside it that would one day eclipse it. A cold, silent thought that he deserved better than this – he _was_ a superior species after all, why should he settle for hiding away like this? Why should he not use the advantage he had over normal people? He was better than them – why should he not show them that?

He didn't turn as he spoke. Magda hated the edge of cold steel in his voice, so unlike her sweet little boy.

"Goodnight, Mom"

He told her. Dismissed and caught watching, Magda turned away and went up to her own room, leaving him alone. She took a sleeping pill, knowing she wouldn't sleep otherwise for wondering about that growing darkness in her boy, and was soundly asleep by the time the glow of the television had cut out suddenly and instead a swirling blue vortex had manifested itself in the basement.

Peter hadn't hesitated for a second to go with the four Mutants who had emerged from it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : So we've all seen the film, and there would be little point in simply repeating the plot of that. Therefore, some liberties have been taken. I hope they are liberties you will enjoy, and that you carry on reading and reviewing. Positive comments so far, thank you all so much!**

A new world order sounded pretty good, all things considered. After all, hadn't people had their time? Hadn't they been given a beautiful world and done nothing with it but screw it all up? Hadn't they seen a kid with an incredible gift and instead of treating him with the respect he deserved, shut him out and made him feel like he was the one with something wrong with him?

Power was pretty good too. It hurt, when Apocalypse had gathered him up in mist and lightning and augmented his powers, felt like his skin was being torn off and his mind shattered and rebuilt, but once the pain had gone it felt amazing. That pure energy running through him like a current. Unable to resist trying out his enhanced powers and easily whipping up a dust-storm that had engulfed a nearby settlement and choked every living creature there to death. He might have felt a little bad about that, if Apocalypse hadn't placed huge hands on his shoulders and looked with him over the dunes that had once been a village and told him

"They were not fit to live. They were inferior to us. You have put them out of the misery of their little lives"

And Peter had nodded and believed him and accepted that slow, dull-witted little creatures like them would be better off dead. Dead or grovelling in front of him, either one. He'd smiled at the god and thought that next time he'd take a second to let them recognise his superiority before he destroyed them.

He didn't think about his mother, or his sisters, or the farther-reaching impact of what they were doing. He only thought of how good it felt to finally be out in the world and recognised as a force to be reckoned with. He certainly didn't think of a mansion in Westchester or a school that he'd hoped would offer him a place, and didn't imagine that they were thinking of him. He was wrong.

When she had discovered her son missing, Magda had been surprised at how immediately she had got in touch with the Academy. Used to sorting out problems herself, she had immediately recognised that this was a problem she wouldn't have a hope in hell of solving. The man who had once come to her door had told her he would deal with this, and she had believed him. Wondered briefly if the man had some kind of power to reach out and stroke her mind with his voice, soothe her worry, convince her that he would bring her son back alive, but accepted that caress all the same and waited patiently.

Erik had not been so accepting.

The doors of the Mansion hung askew from being torn away from their hinges. Every metal object from the cutlery in the drawers to the light-fittings jangled and vibrated as he stormed down to the chamber that housed Cerebro. He hadn't needed to be called to the Mansion – had already been on the move after the tragedy he had so recently experienced when he had caught sight of a broadcast in a television store window. Seen the silver-haired boy who had once rescued him from confinement standing with the others, and known he would have to go back. Not as surprised as he might have been to see Raven there, running to the door of the chamber to meet him.

"Is the jet fuelled?" he demanded of her, "Are we ready to leave?"

"Leave where? Erik – " she paused, confused. Stepped in and put her arms around him, "Where have you even been all this time?"

He didn't have the time for this. Accepted her embrace for a moment, though it hurt for anyone to touch him so tenderly just at this moment, then pushed her gently away and carried on into the chamber

"Charles? Where are you?"

The telepath was seated at the desk within the chamber, Hank McCoy and a young boy he didn't recognise with him, slumped over in his chair with his hands covering his face. Erik thought he saw tears seeping from between his open fingers. The look he received from McCoy was in no way welcoming, but undeterred he stepped forward and put a hand over his old friend's shoulder, said softly

"Charles? What's happening?"

Xavier shook his head, reached to grasp Erik's hand, could not speak aloud. In a moment, Erik heard his friend's voice in his mind

 _Nuweiba,_ he heard, _Bawiti, Mersa Matruh, Abu Qir, Canopus…._

"Charles, what are you talking about? What are those names?!" He shook his friend, tried to rouse him from whatever state he was in. The man's face was white and sickly as he finally raised his head and looked at Erik, horror painted in every line of his features.

"They're towns," he said quietly, voice shaking, "Or they were, at least. They're… gone now"

And Erik understood. Knew why his old friend had wept. Erik could no longer weep for massive acts of destruction, when he had two deaths far more important uppermost in his mind, but through the connection he had always shared he felt Charles' mourning for every human life that had been lost in those towns.

"How?" he asked

"Attacked. By four mutants. They're…." he stopped, closed his eyes again, "They're tearing the world apart"

"They're acting under orders. I've seen their leader Charles, that's why I'm here"

Looking up at him, Charles saw the lie in his eyes. That wasn't why he was here at all, but it was close enough to bring him here and it would have to do. He was about to speak, to tell him he knew why his friend had really come, when the chamber began to shudder as if the foundations of the mansion were crumbling. They looked around them in terror, plumes of dust beginning to fall from the dome of the chamber.

"What's happening?" the boy he didn't know asked, panicked. Erik didn't have an answer, but knew he didn't have much time.

"Get in around us, right now – and for goodness sakes _keep still_ " Erik barked. They obeyed, Raven huddled close to his body, Hank and the blonde-haired boy standing over Charles as if for extra protection. Erik yanked at the girders that held the chamber up and they unearthed themselves from the concrete, groaning as they began to bend

"What are you doing?!" Hank yelled over the noise, "You'll bring the roof down on us!"

Erik didn't bother to answer him, patiently folded the girders with his mind, flattened and spread them and formed them around the little group. When he felt there was enough protection, the rumbling sound grew louder still as he lifted the ball of steel he'd built with them inside it straight up through the mansion.

Once above, Raven peered in terror through a gap in the girders and saw Charles' home collapsing in on itself like a failed soufflé. _But how?!_ She thought, and then she saw the blur of blue orbiting the mansion like an electron around a nucleus, felt the wind stinging at her face as a localised tornado pushed the walls of the mansion inwards. In another moment, the house crumbled, a puff of dust rising from it and twisting as the winds died down. She didn't know the boy who paused to admire his work for a second before taking to his heels and fleeing in a streak like ball lightning. She didn't know why he had done this. Only that everything Charles had built was gone.

"The students" she said, mouth dry with terror, Charles shook his head

"I sent them all home, shortly after you arrived," he told her, tried out a weak little smile, "Trouble follows you, Raven. I thought it would be safer"

Erik set the ball of twisted metal down in the grounds, opened it with a scream of protesting steel to let them out. Stood with them as they watched the dust settle. Hank looked as if he might be sick, all his research under there – his jet, his lab, everything he had. At last the blonde boy had spoken, coming to Erik's shoulder and saying with what seemed an effort at humour.

"And they say *I* cause havoc" a shaky little laugh, "Who was that?"

Erik looked down at him. Didn't say anything. Walked over to Charles and Hank

"So you have another jet, I assume?" he asked.

That had felt good, he thought, burying those ungrateful creatures under the rubble of their pathetic little home. _That_ was what they got for not asking him to join their school, not letting him into their superhero club when he'd risked his life to pull that guy out of the Pentagon. It was easy, just a little shake on the supporting joists, vibrating the atoms of the concrete until they cracked and buckled under the strain, then a leisurely 700mph run until he'd whipped up enough turbulence to push the walls in. After that, he'd mostly been sticking around to admire the view.

It was sure to make the evening news, a big Academy collapsing like that, and he'd be sure to watch it. That would teach them to leave him out, to not recognise that they needed power like his around. If they hadn't asked him to be with them, they shouldn't really be surprised if he was against them – not that they would really be surprised about much, after they'd been crushed under a falling mansion. Apocalypse would be pleased with him.

The others were waiting for him. He pulled up to a halt, plumes of dust settling in his wake.

"Well done, Mercury," the god told him, Turned to his other acolytes, "Storm, Archangel. Go and collect the survivors"

"Wait – survivors?!" he said, "Nobody lived through that, man!"

Apocalypse gave him a pitying look, patted him on the head. Peter bristled at the patronisation but held his tongue for once in his life.

"There are some too valuable to me to simply be crushed, boy" he told him. Peter watched the dark shapes against the sky returning to the scene of the destruction, and smirked. He was pretty sure Apocalypse wasn't going to be inviting those 'survivors' round for milk and cookies. Maybe he'd even let him play with them a little before he did whatever he was planning. He turned his smirk on the purple-haired woman beside him, admired the clinging lines of her outfit with a roving eye. Maybe she could join in.

 _That_ would be fun….


	3. Chapter 3

"You can't stop me, Mom! I'm twenty-six, you can't treat me like a kid!"

Wanda was yelling too loud. There was a crackle of something in the air around her, and her eyes looked like two hot coals. Magda flushed with anger but held her temper, sounding as calm as she could as she told her daughter

"Wanda Maximoff, if I have to lock you in your room like a child then so be it, but you are NOT going charging off like this!"

"He's my brother!"

"And he's my son!" Magda yelled back at last, "I won't lose two children"

Lorna was crying. She hated it when her family fought, hated it when Wanda glowed and sparked with hex energy. Hated it when their mother was sad. Just at that moment, she hated their brother quite a bit too, for causing all this. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been the cause of a family row, but the way he was carrying on it might very well be the last.

"Please stop yelling" she sobbed, the trophies on the shelf shuddered, "Please!"

Both older women looked at her, crumpled up on the sofa with her wavy hair slipping loose from its band and her eyes swollen from crying, a tissue dabbing at her nose, and relented. She'd always been the sensitive one, always felt it so deeply when the others rowed.

"We're going to have a lot more to worry about than Peter unless someone stops them"

Wanda told her, her voice quieter now, the red glow fading from her eyes. And that was the point when Lorna knew that her older sister had given up on getting her twin back. Not 'Dogbreath', not 'Lard-Ass' or 'Trashcan' but simply 'Peter'. As if she was trying to distance herself from the pain.

"Someone doesn't have to be you though," Lorna told her, reaching out for Wanda's hand, "Does it?"

"She's right, Wanda. I called Professor Xavier, he's working on it with his team. If there's any hope at all then they're best placed to help"

Wanda laughed, a short humourless bark of a laugh

"You haven't seen the news today then?" she asked. Magda hadn't, it was too much to see her son on a wanted list, and she'd been avoiding the broadcasts. Wanda turned the TV on and found a news broadcast. The smoking remains of the Xavier mansion filled the screen.

"Still think he's going to help us?" she asked. Magda looked for a long time, then nodded, holding her daughter's firey gaze without fear

"I don't know how, Wanda, but yes I do."

She accepted it then. Accepted the resolve in her mother's eyes, and sat down beside her younger sister, reaching for her hand, refusing to let herself cry. One sobbing woman was quite enough, and Wanda had always been the strong, sensible sibling.

"Can we pray?" Lorna asked in a small voice. Magda nodded, sat down with them and bowed her head, leading them in a prayer. Wanda noticed but did not mention that it was not one for hope or strength, but for forgiveness.

"Did you see that?! Wasn't it cool! And it was easy too, look about half a minute – I could have done it faster obviously, but –"

"Do you ever shut up?"

Peter ducked the empty bottle Archangel aimed at him, easily evaded the swipe of a metal-tipped wing as he snatched a full one from his hand and opened it, downed half of the contents before offering it to Psylocke who refused with a grimace

"Don't you boys think we should be staying sober in case we're needed?"

"I *am* staying sober," Peter muttered at her, "Unfortunately"

"Then quit stealing my booze," Archangel growled, made a grab for the bottle and fell flat on his face.

"Too slow, as usual" Peter grinned, leaping up into the rafters and leading the flying Mutant on a chase around the building which sent numerous probably vital structures shuddering and shaking. Stopping only when he almost ran straight into a purple lance of energy and looked up to see Psylocke glaring daggers at him.

"If you two don't sit down and quit squabbling," she hissed, "I'm going to gut both of you"

"You're no fun at all" Peter pouted at her, but gave Archangel his bottle back and reluctantly flopped into a chair.

It was true too. None of the other Acolytes were ever up for any kind of fun. It was all "Destroy this" and "kill them" and never "Hey, let's go bowling!". It was so boring, all this sitting around waiting for the next order from Apocalypse, keeping out of the public eye whilst he laid his plans. Even the prisoners weren't really all that much fun – they slept all the time, and it only took a tiny little knock on the head before they'd be out for hours. If these were the strongest Mutants Apocalypse could find, then they were pretty lame. Peter wished he'd augment their powers too, so he could have a real fight. He kicked at some loose rubble, decided to go see if the captives were awake yet.

Robbed of his chair, Xavier was helpless to do anything but push himself away from the door with his arms, feet dragging uselessly behind them. He knew before the door grated open that it was not the woman come to burn and whip him, not the boy who looked like an angel with his blonde hair and blue eyes, but the boy he remembered. Standing in the doorway now, a little taller and much thinner than he had been when Charles first met him, a blue leather one-piece with wide white epaulettes that threw his tiny waist and hips into sharp relief. Cruelty in the way he smirked down at the prone man, one hand on his hip, leaning against the doorframe.

"Ready to tell me where your friends went yet?" he asked, gratified at the flinch as he moved closer. Even this powerful telepath was terrified of him now, and it felt great to wield that power.

"I told you, I don't know" Xavier sounded shaky. Maybe he should give him a drink or something? Or maybe Apocalypse could still use him if he died? "Please, stop this – this isn't you, I know you"

"You don't know me man – you used me. I busted a guy out of the most secure prison in the world for you and all the thanks I got was a lift home!"

"You were so young then, Peter, I –"

"That's the worst excuse I ever heard" he snapped, folding his long legs under him to sit cross-legged on the floor in from of Charles, resting his elbows on the ground and his chin on his hand. Narrowed his eyes at him, "You've got little kids in your school, how come *I* was too young? I was seventeen. You just didn't want me"

"If I had known you'd end up this way, I would have taken you with us"

"End up this way?" the boy laughed harshly at him, "What you mean hooked up with a deity? More powerful than you could ever hope to be? Chosen to lead Mutants into a new future?"

"Cruel" Xavier said quietly, "Hard, and destined to be hated by humans and Mutants alike. You don't have to do this. There's goodness in your heart, I know – I can feel it, Peter –"

"Don't *call* me that! It's Mercury. Y'know – the Messenger of the Gods?" he reached out and grabbed two handfuls of Charles' hair, brought their foreheads together and whispered, "You wanna hear my message? See if you can find some goodness there"

Instantaneously, Charles' mind was flooded, overwhelmed, images and noise and words flying by too fast for him to cope. A sense of pressure building behind his eyes. He whimpered in pain, felt a warm trickle of blood start from both nostrils. The pressure did not relent, only grew the longer he was in touch with the boy's mind. Finally, when he was sure he could take no more, he passed out.

Peter tutted at the limp body. Got up, stretched. Maybe he'd go see the blue chick.


	4. Chapter 4

**Big thanks to Bumblebee-the-dork for pointing out my little, er... 'lapse in continuity' back there. All constructive criticism is always welcome, so no you weren't 'nitpicking' at all. I hope I fixed it to your satisfaction!**

Alex hacked at an overgrown branch with his arm, hissed in pain as the spiky brambles caught again around his ankle and drew more blood from where he'd already been cut to ribbons.

"It's just a little further," Hank panted, coming behind him up the low rise of the hill, "Just in the next dip"

"Could you not have hidden it somewhere less… I don't know, crappy?" Alex rejoined. Behind him, Erik cursed as the branch he'd pushed snapped back and hit him in the face

"Watch what you're doing, boy!" he growled. Alex turned, hands on his hips, nose-to-nose with the older man

"I've got a name you know!" he said, jabbed Erik in the chest with a finger "And you should know it, we *have* met"

For a moment, Erik looked stunned, then his eyes widened as he realised. He'd been a child then, but suddenly he did remember the face. He'd grown up tall, solidly muscular, but there was still no excuse to not remember those cheeky blue eyes.

"Alexander Sumner?"

"Summers, but you get an A for effort" he pushed ahead, fighting his way through yet another brambly patch and cursing colourfully.

"I'm so sorry, I've –"

"It's cool. I guess you've got a lot on your mind right now" a little smile over his shoulder, one that said _I know what it's like to lose family,_ then he was pushing ahead again, "The Professor told me what happened in Poland. I'm sorry for your loss"

Erik grunted. Did not have words yet to express his gratitude for the boy's sympathy. Did not want sympathy in any case, wanted only to push through this pain and find that clear, hard place where he would be able to handle that loss. Thought of Nina, of her little hand in his. Of hers and her mother's blood on the ground. Of the purity of his rage as he cut down their killers. Thought of a boy he had only recognised at last when he'd seen that rage and cruelty in his face – he had his mother's eyes, but that harshness was all Erik's. He wouldn't lose another child – not today, not any day.

"It's there" Hank said, pointing down into the little valley ahead of them. Just barely, they could make out the shape of a hatch cut into the ground, totally unnoticable unless you were looking out for it with very sharp eyes.

"We don't have to dig it out, do we?" Alex complained. Hank shook his head, smiled at last.

"Just get into it. The jet will do the rest"

McCoy took the lead, feeling in the softened ground for the hatch and unlocking it with a hiss of escaping pressure. The interior was pitch black, but as lights whined into life Alex looked around him in wonder.

"Wow, this is so old-school!" he said, "How long as this thing been buried?"

"Ten years," Erik said. Exchanged a small smile with Hank, "But if I know Hank, it's as good as the day it went into the ground"

"Gentlemen, welcome to the Mark One Blackbird. I'd strap in if I were you, this could be a bit of a bumpy take-off"

That had turned out to be a mild understatement, and both were very glad to be strapped tightly in as the Blackbird strained to free itself from the earth, jets rumbling and roaring, and at last lurched upward with sickening speed that made Erik extremely glad he hadn't had lunch.

"You do know," he said through gritted teeth, "That I could have pulled it out and *then* we could have taken off"

"And bend my baby all out of shape?" Hank replied, "Not on your life. Besides, we're out now. Let me get up to a cruising altitude and you can unbuckle. Stretch your legs"

"Yeah I think we're fine for that, thanks, after that three-mile hike" Alex quipped, then turned a pale green and shut up fast. It seemed to take only moments before Hank had flicked the 'Bird onto autopilot and come to unstrap the two others. Erik saw worry and strain on his face that bravery couldn't cover and knew that he too was thinking of Charles, of Raven. Wondering if they were still alive, and if they were what terrible trouble they might be in.

"We'll get there in time, Hank" he rested one hand on the scientist's shoulder, "I promise"

"We've got a tough crowd to get through first though" Alex had walked over to the onboard computer, paused newsreel footage of the four Mutants, pointed to the screen, "I'm pretty sure that's the kid who pulled the mansion down. Couldn't say how though"

"He's a speedster," Hank said, "but from the looks of things his power has been considerably increased. In fact all of them seem to have had their gifts amplified somehow. I'm sure I've heard of the white-haired girl… Munro something, maybe? A weather manipulator. She's going to be a hard fight"

"You knew him" it wasn't a question, more an accusation, "Back in Westchester, you recognised that kid, didn't you?"

"He worked with us once," Hank exchanged a look with Erik, "He helped –"

"He's my son" Erik said simply. Hoped that was all the explanation that was required. It had taken him a long time for the penny to finally drop. Maximoff wasn't a particularly common name, and after a little digging he'd found his mother, and knew that it had to be the same Magda that he'd once known. He'd had no idea she was with child when he had left, and now look at what his rash decision had done to the world.

"No offense, Mr Lensherr, but I think he needs to be grounded" Alex deadpanned. Humour seemed his recourse to everything – or, if Erik recalled correctly, setting everything ablaze with plasma blasts. It seemed so common amongst young Mutants to develop that thick shell of sarcastic wit. His son – the boy he hadn't known then – had been the same. Cracking wise and making it all a game when he had fifty armed guards on his tail.

"Hank, can you track them?" Erik asked, turning away from Alex's questioning look.

"Already on it. Charles insisted we all have a microchip implanted under our skin, I thought it was overcautious at the time. Now? Well… I'm pretty glad of it. They're stationary, the 'Bird will get us there in just over two hours"

"Then we don't have long," Erik said grimly, "I suggest we all prepare ourselves. We might not be walking away from this"

The jet suddenly banked hard, throwing them off their feet and crashing into the bulkhead in an undignified heap. Scrambling to his feet, Hank lunged over to the controls and disengaged the autopilot.

"That was an automatic defense," he shouted over a sudden whine that filled the air around them, "There's missiles coming from every direction!"

Alex glanced out of the window in time to see an ICBM sail upward, his astonished swearing lost in the roar. There were more, the sky seemed filled with projectiles, sailing up toward them bringing death from every angle.

"We have to land!" Erik shouted

"We can't!" Hank hollered back, wrenching the controls hard and banking left to dodge another missile, "They're too close together, we'll have to weave through somehow!"

"We're going to die aren't we?" Alex screamed, "AREN'T WE?!"

Erik didn't reply, but turned away and mounted the ladder that led to the upper hatch, ignoring Hank's protests. Shoving it open against the roaring force of the wind. He wouldn't be able to deflect the missiles from inside with the metal body of the jet in the way, but out in the open rush of wind he could exert enough force to clear a path. He hung on for dear life to the ladder with his feet, tears streaming back from his eyes in the speeding rush of air, and _pushed_ with both hands. The missiles wobbled, then parted. They were all heading straight up.

There was a moment of silence, them a _whump_ and a flare as brilliant as a thousand suns. Erik threw his hand over his eyes to shield them from the flash. Then there was nothing. No missiles. He checked he was right as best he could with raw, streaming eyes and climbed back into the Blackbird.

"They didn't hit us" Alex said, confused, "Why did nobody hit us?"

"Because they weren't aiming for us," Erik told him. He looked over at Hank, seeing that he was realising the same thing.

"That's all of them isn't it?" the doctor asked, "Humanity has no defences left"

"Not quite. They have us" Erik replied.

Nobody spoke for a long time after that.

 **A/N : Yes, I retconned it. Retconned it so hard it cried.**


	5. Chapter 5

Psylocke was already amusing herself with Raven when Peter had sauntered in, pulling up a chair and sitting backwards to admire the view. No wonder none of the girls he'd seen had ever caught his eye, when there were Mutants like her in the world. He admired the smooth muscles in her arms as she raised a lance of energy to rest under Raven's chin. There were marks all over her naked body already, the light weals made by energy whips. They didn't look like much, but Peter knew only too well that they hurt like hell. Reptilian yellow eyes narrowed to slits, and Raven took aim and spat in Psylocke's face. With a furious noise the purple-haired girl belted her hard with an elbow to the gut. Raven doubled over, but did not beg. Did not cry. Peter admired that sort of courage.

"I'll never tell you" she was gasping, "I'll never help you – any of you!"

Pulling herself upright, hands clenched where Psylocke had struck. Still that fierce defiance in her face.

"You're awful confident for a naked chick" Peter remarked. Raven turned that glare on him instead.

"This is my true form, why should I hide it?"

"Yeah, well her true form's pretty awesome too but *she* wears clothes. Sadly"

Peter yelped as an energy whip cracked across his shoulders – only a warning, but it stung.

"You're disgusting," Psylocke snarled, "And she's no help. She's all yours Mercury, have fun"

She slammed the cell door behind her. Raven didn't even flinch. Careful to keep his movements slow and controlled, Peter pushed the chair aside, clasped his hands behind his back and strolled over to her.

" 'Mercury', is it now?" Raven asked, voice dripping with scorn, "Is that because you're poison?"

"Well it's not because I'm good at taking temperatures. Though I have to say – you're pretty _hot_ "

"She's right. You *are* disgusting. I wouldn't tell you anything even if I did know"

"That's a very unwise decision," Peter trailed his fingers over her shoulder, crossing behind her where she couldn't see him, enjoyed her discomfort, "Don't you know who I am?"

"You're a scared little kid who never had any real friends," Raven hissed, craning her neck to follow him, seeing fury bloom in his dark eyes at her words, "And you're a traitor to Mutantkind"

"I'm an Acolyte of En-Sabur-Nur and I'll be by his side when he takes over. Do you know where *you'll* be, just as soon as we find out where your friends got to?" He pointed downward with both forefingers, gave her a wide, sharp grin "Six. Feet. Under"

Raven showed no reaction for a moment, then smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile.

"We watched you, you know" she said, almost conversationally, rubbed her wrists against the ropes that held her, "To see when you'd be ready for the Academy. We know you"

Then she was changing. Her blue skin pulling into spines, rippling and distorting in a way that was hard to look at, and when the ripples stopped she wasn't Raven any longer. His sister sat bound in front of him, huge brown eyes wide, gazing up into his. A bruise that hadn't shown on Raven's blue colouring bloomed into life on her cheek.

"Nice trick" he snarled, but it hit a nerve. Something buried under the rage raised its head. He felt a little sick. Told himself it was just that there was nothing decent to eat around here. Too much running and not enough pizza, that was all. Nothing to do with the sight of his beloved twin sister bound to a chair with marks all over her body. It wasn't Wanda, he kept repeating in his mind, just a trick. Wanda was fine. Wanda was safe. Wanda was far far away from here.

"Please don't do this," Raven said. It was Wanda's voice. How did she know his sister's voice? The illusion was far too convincing. He could feel bile rising in his throat. Were his family safe, after Apocalypse had fired off every missile on Earth? "Please, my brother, I'm begging you"

"It's just a trick!" he shouted at her, turned away from those huge eyes, "You're not her! She's safe!"

"Let me go" Raven-Wanda pleaded, "Please, _Pietro,_ don't do this anymore. You can still stop. There's time"

That name. The one only his sister *ever* used. More precious than any of the insulting nicknames they gave one another, more his and more real than any name. She hadn't called him that since he was a child, and she had playfully decided that since their second name was Eastern European, she would be Vanda and he too would go by a Romanian version of his own name, but only ever to her.

He couldn't look at her. He was definitely going to vomit. He was out before she had the chance to speak again, to sting him anymore. Doubled over with his arms crushed down against his stomach, throwing up until he dry-heaved and even then feeling sickened by himself. Apocalypse was going to destroy everything impure, everything not strong enough to live in his world, and he had convinced himself that that wouldn't include his family. His human mother would surely not stand the wrath of En-Sabur-Nur, and perhaps even Wanda was not powerful enough to warrant a place in this new world. And Lorna? Poor little Lorna, just coming into control over her full powers at nineteen, how would she fare? He retched again, surprised how much it hurt, like something was ripping inside him, realising that this twisting pain was not so much physical as it was a manifestation of the loss of his loved ones. Then a cool, sultry voice beside him, a hand on his shoulder

"Mercury?" Storm asked, concerned, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he spat hard onto the ground, wiped his mouth with a hand, "Too much vodka. I'm fine."

"Apocalypse wants you" she said, "he has a special task for the two of us"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N : Just a short one, but it needed to be separate!**

Skies blackened, the ground swelled with heat. Ash rained down on everything. Held in Storm's arms above it all, Peter watched the clouds of grey death rolling over the land, blotting out the sun. It had been so easy to set that volcano off, nothing to it but putting his hands against the sides and vibrating it until it sprung out of dormancy and into violent life. He remembered he'd been able to shatter glass like that, once. Now look at what he could do instead.

Nobody really cared about a broken window, but they had to take notice of destruction on this scale. En-Sabur-Nur's message was coming through loud and clear now. By the time they landed they could hear sirens, the human world coming alive with terror. There would be more – tsunamis and earthquakes that Storm would raise from the oceans and cast upon their cities. Cracks and fissures in the ground that he would shake into being, letting her draw the murky water from underneath and pull it into giant geysers. He would create tornados that she would chase inland, pull towns and coastal settlements from their roots. So many would die in this cleansing. Victory, at this point, seemed inevitable.

Apocalypse waited. When they returned, he gave them his pride and his congratulations for their work. Gave them affection and fatherly regard, and let them rest a while. Took Psylocke and Archangel to mop up the survivors. Peter could hear their screams as he lay down to rest, and closed his eyes to them. Curled tight into a ball and tried to concentrate on the hope and promise of a new world. One where he would be revered as a god alongside his fellow Acolytes. He couldn't sleep, stomach still hurting and churning with sickness, couldn't get the image of Wanda's bruised face and huge wet eyes out of his head. Lay as still as he could and tried to think of how good it would feel to be worshiped rather than scorned, loved and praised by his subjugated followers, recognised as the superior being he was.

It didn't work. He wished he was at home. Wished he could hear Wanda and Lorna and his mother outside, rather than the screaming of slaughtered humans and weaker Mutants. Wished he felt so sick from binging on deep-fried Twinkies again and wished he could put his headphones on and relax to something obscure and soothing. When Psylocke and Archangel returned, they were dripping with blood. One whiff of the sharp metallic smell and he threw up all over again.

Archangel had laughed at him then. Mocked him and told him

"I told you not to steal my booze. Too strong for a little wimp like you"

Then he was attacking, raining kicks and punches on the taller boy with a fury he hadn't realised he had in him, getting cut to shreds on the metal tips of those wings and not caring, only striking out until Apocalypse had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shook him like a kitten in his grasp. There were adders and wasps in his voice as he hissed in his ear

"Why do you fight against your own kind, Mercury? Control yourself! You'll have all the fighting you could wish for soon enough"

He threw him down. His ankle wrenched as he landed, sending a jolt of pain up his leg. He refused to wince or cry out. Psylocke threw him a pitying glance as she stalked away, leaving Storm to reach down and help him to his feet. At least someone around here wasn't bullying him.

"You are too quick to anger" she was saying, "It will get you killed. Be calm, try to sleep – there is a great battle approaching"

He tried, honestly he did. Still despite his best efforts he was awake hours before anybody else, pacing the corridors of the building and hearing a furious banging and yelling from one of the cells. Curious, he approached the door and pulled back the small panel.

"Let me OUT you, idiot!" Psylocke screamed at him, eyes flaring violet with anger, "That scaly blue bitch locked me in here, she's loose in the building somewhere!"

Later, he would wonder if he had really convinced himself that was the real Psylocke in there, or if something in him had finally relented. At the time, it hadn't mattered, he'd pulled back the bolts of the door and hardly even struggled as Raven pinned him to the floor with one knee in his throat and the other in his gut, covered his mouth and nose with a hard, strong hand and held him there until he lost consciousness.

When he came round, Raven and Xavier were gone and all hell had broken loose.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N : My Mutant superpower is super-long author's notes. And thus;**

 **1\. This is the penultimate chapter.**

 **2\. Yes, I know the defeat of Apocalypse is lame. It's pretty lame in the film too.**

 **3\. This one is bloody and gory and violent, but if you're old enough to see the movie you've seen worse.**

 **4\. Thank you, all readers and reviewers, you are as always inspiring and wonderful.**

 **5\. I'm after new prompts and story ideas now, and will write almost anything. Fluff, gore, romance, humour, you ask and I try to deliver.**

 **and finally...**

 **6\. I could be really *really* mean and not post the final chapter until tomorrow...**

Hank had run out of medication, reverting to the huge, hairy blue form that resembled a mutated gorilla before they had landed. Erik was glad, they would need the full strength of his Beast form in the battle that was to come. Alex had snapped off the radio after the earthquakes had begun, huddled in the corner of the cockpit until Erik had gone over to him, raised his chin with his hand. His eyes were wet and red.

"I've got a little brother down there," he'd said, "And parents. Well... foster parents, but they're our Mom and Dad. They're all down there"

Erik nodded. Understood, but said nothing for a long while until he had reached out and squeezed the boy's shoulder hard.

"Family is the best reason to fight" he told him. "Don't cry for them. Fight for them and don't give up. Do you understand me?"

Alex nodded. Knew that Erik was speaking to himself as much as to the frightened boy in front of him. Pulled himself together as best he could. By the time they stepped out of the Blackbird into the swirling sandstorm, he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

"Search the building, find Charles and Raven" Erik told them, pointing out the half-ruined edifice they could barely see through the stinging sand. Hank bounded off immediately, Alex hanging behind a little

"What will you be doing?" he asked

"I'm going to find Apocalypse," he said, "and I'm going to kill him."

Inside the place was in half-darkness, the storm-clouds gathering outside lending it an unearthly air. Hank could feel his fur standing on end with static electricity, sniffing the air carefully. He could pick up the faintest trace of Charles's scent, followed it until he had rounded a corner and seen in a shadow a reflection off Raven's iridescent skin. Charles was with her, he saw, her body protectively curled around him. She set eyes on him and immediately yelled out

"Hank, don't!"

But it was too late, he had advanced straight into Psylocke's ambush, jumping down from the rafters. He smelled the burning fur as her energy blade almost severed his arm. Baring his teeth and charging the woman with all his strength, she deflected his attack with a stinging whip of purple energy that flung him into the darkness. He looked up, locked eyes with Raven,

"Get him out" he growled. Then Psylocke was on him again, raining down a hail of strikes that he barely blocked. The smell of burning hair and blood filled his nostrils.

Outside, Alex gazed around for an entrance to the maze-like ruins, thinking he had found one when a flash of silver heralded a slice across his back that made him scream with pain and surprise. In a heartbeat, Archangel had carried him up to the rooftop, standing over him. He spread his wings wide, lightning reflecting off them and thunder rolling as the storm reached its full fruition and rain began to batter them. The ground began to quake. Alex dived for the other boy, barrelling into him with a rolling force that send them both dangerously close to the edge of the rooftop.

Apocalypse was nowhere to be seen. Beneath his feet, Erik felt the ground tremble, sending him off balance as he ran to where the tremors seemed most intense, seeing the silver-haired boy there. He was vibrating the ground with all his strength, tendons standing proud in his neck with the effort. He looked exhausted, but did not stop his assault on the earth. If he didn't stop soon, he would disrupt the movement of tectonic plates and cause a worldwide quake. He tried to come closer, thrown off his feet by the revolt of the ground, reached out with one hand and screamed above the rumbling earth

"Peter! Stop, please!" he screamed. The boy did not relent, "You don't want this! Think of your family!"

"They're probably dead already!" the boy yelled back. Erik thought he could see tears on his face, "Why stop now? There's nobody left!"

"You have family closer than you think, Peter! If you end this now, maybe you can save the rest!"

It was hopeless, the boy had bowed his head. Erik thought he looked like the effort he was making was going to kill him. Augmented powers or not, he simply couldn't keep this up for much longer. He was sickly pale in the thundery light, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Out of the corner of one eye, Erik spotted a glint of light from Apocalypse's armour, reluctantly crawling away from the boy toward the risen god. For the first time in what felt like eternity, he felt Charles' voice in his mind, and almost wept for happiness that he was alive.

 _Stop him!_ He was yelling inside his head, _I'm inside his mind, I'll try to give you a chance._

 _Charles, he's too powerful!_ Erik thought back

 _Perhaps. In which case, goodbye old friend_

He said no more. Erik regained his footing, and charged for the god to meet him in battle.

The rain hammered on Alex like needles, seemed to follow his every move and make his footing treacherous. Blinded with water, he swung out wildly. Archangel sidestepped his swing and he was falling, catching himself only by the tips of his fingers on the edge of the rooftop.

Psylocke's blade was at Hank's throat, his breathing heavy and ragged. He was losing blood, vision dimming. He snarled, ignored the searing burn as he grasped her blade with both hands, wrenched it away from his body, kicked with both powerful legs to reverse their positions and pin her to the ground at the mercy of her own weapon.

Alex reached, grabbed Archangel's ankle and they were falling together. He loosed his control over his plasma blasts and the angel screamed in agony, released his hold as the beam heated his metal wings to white heat in moments. Alex hit the ground hard, and passed out.

Erik picked up a fallen girder, wielded it clublike and swatted Apocalypse down. He was barely down for a moment before he was on his feet, roaring in rage and heading straight for Erik again. He got one more lucky swing with the girder in before the god was on him, hands on his head, ready to snap his neck like a new twig. Then the ground cracked beneath them.

Apocalypse was flying backwards, thrown by a punch with unbelievable acceleration behind it. Erik saw a flash of blue and the god was down again. Once more, as though he was tossed by a raging hurricane, and then the boy was reaching down into the crack in the earth, offering Erik his hand. He had barely clambered up when with a scream of shock the boy was pulled away, held above En-Sabur-Nur's head, fury ringing from his voice

"Traitor!" he screamed, "You will pay with your life!"

He smashed the boy against the ground, keeping hold of both arms in one huge hand, raised him again and brought him down like a rag doll. Did not raise him again, but brought one massive foot down on both of his legs. There was a sound like a double gunshot, and a howling screech of agony that Erik knew he would remember until his dying day. He stood, he raised his hands, he found the copper and iron in the god's body and he _pulled_.

And Apocalypse was no more. Faint particles of dust shimmered on the calming winds. He went to the boy. Somehow he was still conscious, though sobbing in pain.

They collected themselves. Hank limped, bleeding, but carrying an unconscious Xavier. Raven led a dazed Alex up the ramp, staggering under a head injury. Erik scooped his arms under his son's pathetically light form and carried him with them. He had remained conscious for a long while, though breathing in hitching gasps and writhing with the agony of two broken femurs. Hank popped his dislocated shoulders back into the sockets with ruthless efficiency. Refused to give him any morphine, claiming he didn't know how a speedster's body would react to the drug. Erik thought he was withholding that relief to punish the boy. Thought he had been punished enough. Gathered him in his arms and stroked his bloody hair.

"It's true isn't it?" the boy whimpered in his ear, "You're my Dad?"

Erik nodded, held him tight whilst Hank applied splints to his legs, didn't let him get away. When the doctor was done, he let Peter lay back. He was an awful shade of grey, gasping for breath, in unimaginable agony.

"I'm glad you came" he smiled at him through the pain.

Then his heart stopped.

 **A/N : So I'll just leave it there for now, yeah? You can all wait a few days for the conclusion, I'm sure...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you so much for your reviews. Fanfic is my escape, and you lot have done such a wonderful job at encouraging me that it feels even better. Last chapter - MarburyBlur, I hope you've enjoyed your prompt. MargotTenser, yours is up next. Enjoy!**

The world was full of muffled noise, and brightness pressing on his eyelids, and pain. Mostly pain, at the particular moment. All over, some of it just discomfort, some outright agony, but no part of him didn't hurt. Peter opened one eye, it felt sticky and dry somehow at the same time, tried to move one leg.

"Oh no you don't"

Erik didn't even look up from the book he was reading, raised one hand and pulled metal cuffs tightly around Peter's wrists and ankles. He didn't try to move any more.

"How long?" he croaked, tried not to moan in agony as Erik raised the head of the bed so he could look at him. Failed miserably.

"Three weeks, Peter. Long enough that we've almost finished rebuilding"

"Am I…."

"In the infirmary of the mansion, yes. The one you tried to pull down on our heads. Any more stupid questions?"

He thought. His head felt thick and syrupy, unable to really form coherent thoughts just for now. He looked down at himself as best he could, tubes and wires running everywhere. Noticed a car battery sat on a stand beside the bed. Erik followed his gaze and said.

"You're on a pacemaker, and an ordinary battery won't run it hard and fast enough to match your normal heartbeat. You went into cardiac arrest in the jet. Hank says you're very lucky to be alive"

"How?" he managed

"Apocalypse broke two of your major bones and fractured countless more. Bones are full of fatty marrow, and so much of it got into your bloodstream that it stopped your heart. We took you off the respirator two days ago, you hadn't been breathing on your own before then" He smoothed back his son's greasy unwashed hair, looked at him hard and fondly, "I could have lost you, and I only just found you. That would have been very unfair"

Peter looked up at his father. He looked unshaven, like he hadn't changed his clothes in days, harried and worried and exhausted. Probably almost as bad as he did himself.

"When did you know?" he whispered, wished he could reach out and get himself a drink. As if reading his mind, Erik picked up a cotton swab on a stick and ran it lightly around the inside of his mouth. It tasted of lemons and antiseptic. He grimaced at the taste, but it was better than the dry feeling.

"As soon as I saw you beside that creature," Erik told him truthfully, perched beside him on the bed. He took up next to no room, leaving plenty of space for the older man, "I'm sorry it took me so long"

Peter shook his head. Tried to say something sensible, something to express how grateful he was to have a father at last. Choked on the words and felt tears running down his face. Erik reached out and brushed them away, kissed him gently on the forehead. His lips were rough and dry and felt so loving and kind.

"I'm sorry" he managed, "for everything"

"You tried to destroy the world young man, I think 'sorry' doesn't quite cover it, hmm?"

Peter looked distraught. Erik thought about pretending to be angry for a little longer, but relented in the face of that expression.

"Tried being the operative word" he said kindly, smiled gently at his son, "Failed, and ended up helping to save it is more to the point"

Peter nodded. Looked down at all the tubes again. Thought of his two broken legs and wondered if he'd ever be able to run again. Thought of the pain when it had happened and then stopped thinking about that very quickly as a wave of dizzy nausea rushed over him.

"When can I get up?" he asked

"I'll leave that to Hank, but one thing is for certain – you're going to be in a wheelchair for a while. You have two badly broken legs, Peter, a cast won't do. You could have permanent nerve damage unless you keep off them. The good news is that Hank thinks your healing is accelerated by your mutation"

"The bad news being?"

"There are three women waiting outside who haven't been allowed to see you since you got back, and every single one of them probably wants to smother you with affection"

Erik smiled, got up to open the door and pop his head out for a moment. He was almost knocked over by Wanda bounding ahead of the pack, tears already springing into her eyes as she flung herself on him for a hug. It was at that point that he discovered that three of his ribs were cracked.

"You are the most stupid, horrible, ridiculous little boy I have ever known in my life" she said fiercely, face buried in his neck, hot breath tickling his skin, her tears wet against his collar, "if you ever leave us again like that I will kill you. Heard me? Kill. You."

"Hey Buttface," he gasped faintly, "Breathing… good"

She didn't move far away, keeping hold of one shoulder whilst Lorna and his mother each took their turns weeping with relief and anger and joy and love. He would have a lot of explaining to do, once he got a little better. Right now, it was all he could do to keep his head upright.

"Don't ever leave us again, please," Lorna told him, "it's not good for any of us"

"Actually, if it's all right with you, I wanted to offer Peter a place at the Academy"

The women turned as one, leaving off their petting and cooing for a moment as Xavier wheeled himself into the room. Peter looked dumbstruck at the idea.

"Well don't just gawp at me, say yes" Xavier laughed. Peter wondered if he'd had a bad head injury in the fighting.

"No, my head is perfectly fine" damn telepathy… "I should have offered you a place years ago. I'm very sorry I didn't. I saw you out there, you'll be an asset to our team. Please say you'll join us here"

Peter locked eyes with his mother. She nodded, wiped her nose, squeezed his restrained hand hard.

"Look after him, Professor" she said, "goodness knows he's unable to do it himself"

"Wait," Peter struggled upright as much as he was able against the restraints, fixed Xavier with a wavery look, licked his dry lips before he tried to go on, "You don't wanna do that. What I did? You can't forgive it. Lemme go home, please, build your school again. You don't want someone like me in it."

Xavier looked at him sadly. Then turned to the women and said quietly

"Will you give us a few minutes, please? You too Erik, I want to speak to Peter in private"

Alone at last, he pushed his chair over to the side of the bed, placed one hand softly over Peter's. Reached and unfastened the metal cuff to grip it firmly in a double fist.

"When Apocalypse had me captive, do you remember what I said to you?" The boy shook his head, though he remembered perfectly well. Just that he also remembered what he had done after. "I told you that I could feel goodness in your heart. I wasn't lying. You are a strong, kind, good person and you came through in the end. I can understand why you felt like lashing out the way you did. There's nothing to say that any one of us wouldn't do the same given the right opportunity"

Peter looked away, tried to hide his filling eyes. Failed.

"Don't you believe me?"

"I do, I just…. I don't feel like a good person. I feel like a total loser"

"Then stay here and let us teach you what you really are"

"And what's that?"

"A good man," Xavier smiled, "a good son, a good brother, and a good X-Man"

Peter smiled a little at that. Sniffed and tried to stop the tears. Laughed through them a little.

"Hey Professor? If I stay, can you do something for me?"

"Try me"

"When I can get up again and use a chair…. Can we race?"

Xavier laughed, glanced up to see Erik peering into the room and beckoned him in

"Ask your Father" he said.

 **FIN!**


End file.
